Some get into rock for fame. Some for money. Some for attention. Yes it can have all that, though it is so rare, you might have better odds with the lotto. It seems attainable. A personal El Dorado. A hint, a fragment of a clue to a direction. Always a step ahead. Always out of reach. Until it isn't, and that's what makes the dream so enticing.
Got To Get Back Home is the end of a search. The hero(ine) went out. Found adventure. Lost their self. Corrupted by the search. Now desiring only to start over. To get home. This was me projecting myself into a story. I am not the character, but the character is me. I am not ready to stop. I have more to give. More to offer. I have had moments where I have lost my direction. Where I lost my purpose. Where I was in danger of losing myself. I think I have held on fairly well considering these are treacherous waters.
One of the most interesting arrangements we have done is on Got To Get Back Home. Abe was playing accordion. I did two bass lines with harmonizing melodies. The sound is barren and lit like a desert. I love the jarring and the odd. I love the unexpected. I love when songs exist because they should, not because it's what is expected. This song is unexpected. Don't be afraid to not be serious. Don't be afraid to have humor, it is equalizer of our sanity.
When I imagined getting lost, I thought of where I would go. Going back to where course was lost. To where I would've last known myself. I think it's a pretty classic storyline. To leave home. And the sense of yourself behind. Romanticizing the past. The people left behind, when you are away.
I got into music. Into writing because I had something to say. Growing up with a musical background, gave me a platform to say it. My journey is to keep writing until the words leave me. Right now I'm trying to maintain pace with how fast the songs come.
It is easy to get distracted by other objectives. Temptations thrown in front of our eyes. These are only distractions. Keep the words. Keep the music. That is the good path.
some stranded Sunday
the last day of loss
I thought like melted ice
I thought, like beginning
making a still spark
that was our start
the back seat of a civic
watching the world turn
I thought like turning
I thought, of smiling
cause Sunfall is only our back turning
so much happening here
I won't understand
-rene
*Image source: http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large/the-conquistador-betty-bohrer.jpg
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